Brandon woke up panting again. Same cold sweat. Same nightmare. Managing to calm down, he wiped the sweat from his face and squeezed his temples. It was frustrating that this became routine now. Reaching for his pistol, he met only a cold metal desk. His pupils darted to the empty space where his gun should have been. It wasn't on the ground or anywhere near. Something felt dangerously askew. He scanned every inch of his room for an intruder, but if someone wanted him dead it would have been done by now. Still, every instinct screamed to dash for his second pistol. With a quick breath he rolled out of his bed and snagged his other gun beside his door. The room was empty aside from himself. An urge to sweep the ship became paramount as he gripped the handle to open his door. Though he controlled his anxiety, his palms were beyond sweaty.

1…2…3…go-

Brandon smashed his shoulder into the door as failed to open.

"Son of a bitch. Ow!"

He was surprised to find his room door still locked since it can only be locked from the inside. While happy no one could see his incompetence he surveyed his desk again to make sure he hadn't gone completely crazy. The pistol was still missing, but his attention focused on another vacant area of his desk; what should be his black falcon statue. Panic and dread should be the feelings stirring inside him, but instead a weird sense of ease settled. Discovering the ship's armor hatches still sealed made him more impressed than anything else.

Seeing how his craft had been infiltrated he held no qualms about letting himself into Kasumi Goto's quarters. On her backside, she held the statue admiring every curve. His pistol rested beside her on the couch.

"Didn't take you long. Hope this was the first place you came."

"Aside from being the only thief on this boat, you purposely left two clues."

Kasumi tilted her head to observe the detective's reasoning.

"You took something that was easily twentieth century, unique, and intriguing."

"And the second?"

Brandon's left hand spun his gun out of the holster.

"You took one of a pair. Can't have one without the other, so you expected them to find each other. Very sentimental."

"From what I've heard you are into that sort of thing."

"I can say the same about you."

This was the first time in Miss Goto's room. He glanced at the museum quality head on her table and couldn't help but envy the huge observation window. At the same time, the fully stocked bar would be a bad temptation in his living quarters.

"I know a thief doesn't kiss and tell, but how did u get into my room? I can assume you bypassed the armored hatches."

"Actually had to hotwire since it wasn't a computerized lock. As for your room, a magnetic current through my omni-tool. Slid the metal lock open from the other side. Used to cut my teeth on those back in the day, though a lesser professional wouldn't know anything past a standard bypass."

And she had the courtesy to lock the doors on her way out.

The thief certainly lived up to the reputation. Skill wise, anyway. Personality, still a bit baffling. Mainly because she enjoyed it so much; more like a hobby than a necessary job. Good to see some people make a living and loving what they do. The rose that rested against on her counter caught his attention.

"The red rose. That used to be my calling card when I first started out. In place of whatever I took I left a single red rose."

Picking it up, his fingers felt the prickly stem and the soft velvety sensation of its petals. So much time spent in a starport or a ship he'd almost forgotten something as simple as a plant. It only took a small whiff to send his senses racing. There was only word he could think to simply describe it. Life. Amusingly, Brandon also recognized it as that wonderful smell in the elevator. He looked to her even though her eyes were veiled.

"So…you were the reason the elevator was so lovely that time."

Guilty as charged, Kasumi did her best to keep her face hidden. She was red with embarrassment. Brandon playfully prodded her secret.

"Which also means you have been lingering in the armory to watch Jacob flex his muscles?"

"Well, that Jacob…mmmmm."

The best thief in the galaxy was not used to being caught. She spoke with the innocent façade of a schoolgirl found cheating on an exam.

"You aren't gonna tell-"

Brandon couldn't help but laugh.

"Your secret is safe with me."

"Good. You think he likes Japanese girls with a penchant for kleptomania?"

"Miranda didn't do it for him so who knows."

"True. I wonder how genetically modified she is because…wow."

Brandon just crossed his arms as he watched her. Kasumi couldn't stop marveling over the falcon. Her fingers traced along the indentations of its chest and the slight wear. It was mesmerizing; like she was learning every minute feature and detail from touch.

"I have never seen anything like this. Yet…it seems so familiar. What's its story?"

Brandon strolled over to the bookcase. For once he could use that word legitimately. Real books lined the shelves. Something he once collected in his youth. His eyes scanned through them until he landed on one. His heart had to have skipped a beat.

"Detective novels, eh?"

"And romance novels. The classics."

Hesitantly, but eagerly Brandon pulled the novel from its place. His thumb scrolled down the side of the pages making that unforgettable sound from paper. He hadn't held a real book since before he shipped out to the Alliance. This particular novel Brandon only read digitally. Never thought an original would be in his hands.

"A bit stereotypical for a private eye, but this one's my favorite."

Kasumi glanced to Brandon with the novel.

"Oh The Maltese Falcon. That was a very fun read."

She returned to admiring the falcon, but her gaze crept slowly back to Brandon holding the book. She didn't say a word. Brandon's wide smile not only answered her silent question, but proved it was no joke.

"THAT…is one of the falcons from the vid in 1941. There were a number of them, but that one has a story. It was cast from the original mold and used to promote the vid. It was owned by one of the actors and then given to his favorite restaurant. It stayed displayed for forty years until it was stolen in 2007. It vanished and never emerged again."

"Apparently not, detective."

"Indeed. From what I gathered, it was traded underground and owned by a few private collectors over the next century. During the First Contact War, the owner was enlisted navy and killed on ship. All his possessions went to auction. The dingus was considered worthless as no one could identify its origin. Not a soul knew what it was and, much like the fictional bird, it transcended to a hidden object of desire."

Kasumi put the falcon down and sprawled herself across the couch, propping her chin on her hands to watch him tell the story. Even though he couldn't see her eyes it was still slightly nerve-racking. Not so much the master thief listening, but being able to see her body stretched out.

"So…how did you find it?"

Brandon kept his gaze from wandering somewhere it shouldn't.

"After the first Normandy was destroyed, I left the Alliance and set up as a freelance Private Detective. One of my early jobs sent me to a high-ranked corporate Asari office. Strong appreciation of human art. Sculptures. Maps. Paintings. Very nicely decorated, yet poorly secured. Simple snatch and go job. While I had files copying, I noticed a glass case with numerous items. Relics of early twentieth century. Most were reproductions or replicas, but then I saw it. I had to double take to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. I removed it and examined the weight, how it bounced off the light, and when I looked underneath…the film company's stamp. No doubt it was an original. The data was delivered and the Maltese Falcon left with me."

Kasumi was absorbed by his tale. It was a surprise considering her stories were undoubtedly much more exciting by comparison. Perhaps because no one really shares theft stories in the business.

"So…you never thought to 'turn it in'?"

Brandon could not hide his devilish grin.

"I think its…past the statute of limitations."

She dragged herself to the couch's arm and closer to her guest.

"Walking that fine line between detective and thief, aren't you?"

"I don't normally make a habit of it, but this was an exception."

"Never thought to sell it? Must be worth a lot, especially back on Earth."

Kasumi didn't ask as a business proposition. She genuinely wanted to know his reasons. Brandon didn't need a second to think about it.

"Some things aren't about the money. Besides, it's a great story. The fictional or the real one."

They shared a chuckle. Kasumi was already satisfied with breaking into his room. It was a fun way to coax him to visit her.

"You are as much of a nostalgic as I am."

"I prefer old-fashioned."

Brandon placed her book on the counter. Still, something puzzled him.

"I can understand your fascination with the falcon, but why take my gun?"

Her small hands wrapped around the grip and caressed down the stainless slide. Much like the falcon, her fingers ran over every inch.

"From my experience, if you see something you've never seen it might be worth taking."

There was a slight hesitation in her voice. Almost as if she had to think of another reason other than the real one.

"They're custom made one-offs."

"Oh, I know. I was there when you were telling Jacob remember."

She pulled the internal slide action back sending the clip into the air before catching it.

Fast learner. She sure knows how to pop a heat sink.

Kasumi looked back to Brandon.

I didn't say that a loud, right?

She repositioned it back in his gun sending the action locking in place.

"I'm not limited to solely art and antiques."

She motioned towards the weapon on her bed; inviting Brandon to observe it.

"You can play with my stuff since I've played with yours. That's the gun that killed two presidents…supposedly. That or its one hell of a copy. The M-12 Kassa Locust."

Though never fond of submachine guns, the quality was exceptional. Its design paled in comparison to any other weapon of its class. A mix of precision and style that Brandon respected instantly.

"Accurate, full auto submachine gun with an emphasis on suppression and lightness. Unparalleled range short of a rifle. Very nice."

"I stole it from Donovan Hock's private collection. Shepard helped me out to pull that off."

"You heisted the Hock for just a gun?"

Kasumi grew silent after he asked. Something didn't sit right and he could tell her mood had changed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry."

"No…I just…it's a long story."

Trying to avoid the uncomfortable silence he returned his gaze back to the thief lying on the couch.

"You seem pretty quick to trust me. Shepard I can understand, but why me?"

"Well you told me one of your secrets and you know one or two of mine."

"Knowing secrets doesn't buy you trust. Just something to hold against another."

Kasumi considered that for a moment before picking herself upright off the couch. Her footsteps were soft on the metal deck as she moved toward him. Her fingers itched along his thieved pistol.

"Well…from watching you on the Citadel, I know what kind of person you are."

Should I be proud or terrified from that statement?

"You're selfless…and have an aura about you. Like the knight in shining armor."

Brandon could not help but notice her little smirk as she twirled the gun at the trigger guard and flipped it round to him grip first.

"And like any knight, he shouldn't be without his sword."

His mind couldn't make words to exit his mouth. He had to consciously close it to when he felt his jaw slowly fall. Reaching for his gun, he simply grinned; the only thing he could muster up. Kasumi was secretly delighted in how red she had gotten Brandon's face to glow. Brandon couldn't think of a response fast enough before she spoke.

"You want a drink?"

That cheery voice of hers.

She was already over to the bar as he slowly followed.

"I…uh…made a rule with drinking."

She glanced back at her guest.

"I don't drink…unless it's with friends"

Kasumi grew a smile. She poured a glass for both of them. Brandon didn't know of what but the day had already been full of surprises. Each with a glass in hand they chime.

"To…the stuff dreams are made of, Brandon."

"Ha…to the beginnings of a beautiful friendship, Kasumi."

It has been a while since Brandon tasted good alcohol and felt…contented. Only he realized it wasn't the alcohol that made him that way. It was good to experience the sense that things were moving on for the better…despite a possible suicide run.

It was still too late or early that the 'Normandy' was running on the skeleton crew, so Brandon returned to his ship. Kasumi didn't need to beg to convince him if she could hold the falcon for a while. For some reason, it was strange returning to his room. Something felt different. Not the lack of the statue, but an abundance of clutter. Looking around had given him notice to a few unwanted items.

He gathered the objects and walked to the other end of the cargo bay. Nine empty bottles were placed on a steel support beam. Vodka, whiskey, bourbon, rum, two Jack Daniels, 151, Batarian Ale, and Ryncol. He returned to the other end and stared down his old demons. Nothing but distraught reminders of nights on Omega. His hand opened and closed stretching all his fingers. Feet shoulder length apart and a crack of the neck, Brandon quick drew sending the vodka bottle flying. The recoil was more noticeable, but manageable for the increased power. One-handed, he brought his pistol up again, aimed, and blasted the adjacent whiskey. He fired two shots quickly sending the bourbon and rum to pieces. Brandon aimed down his sights on the Jack Daniels. It exploded. Strange since Brandon hadn't pulled the trigger yet. Looking behind him he saw a turian with his M-92 Mantis in hand.

"Can't sleep, huh?"

"I've had better."

Brandon lined up another shot and shattered the second bottle of JD.

"What brings you from your calibrations? Not much down here."

"Oh, I was just catching up with Tali."

Brandon looked back to Garrus with a crooked amused eye.

"Uh huh."

Garrus' mandibles flared from the comment. He abruptly brought up his rifle and blasted the 151.

"Saw you shooting bottles, figure I'd join in."

"Never liked the VI program. Besides I need a proper test."

Brandon carefully aimed downrange.

"Yeah…listen…talking with Tali…are you doing okay?"

He flinched firing his pistol, hitting the metal support under the bottle. He stopped aiming and holstered his gun. Word does travel fast on a small ship. Tali was always concerned about the crew…more so her friends. Brandon was thankful for that much.

"I don't know. It still keeps me up at night."

Garrus recognized the pain. It was just recently he, Shepard, and Tali were chasing ghosts of his past. The scars had yet to heal; not just the physical ones.

"I don't know how you want to handle it. But when you do, I'll have your back."

It seemed like the time for the query only Garrus could answer for him. Just to know if it might be worth it in his crusade.

"What was your choice? You sleep better after Sidonis?"

"Sleep was better…I wasn't."

Garrus' silence felt like hours for the few moments he took.

"The only thing that mattered was his corpse. He was sighted up and would've been dead if Shepard didn't block me. When he spoke, he was a lifeless husk. It would have been mercy to strike him down. Then Shepard turned away…he thanked her. He didn't run. He waited for me to kill him. To end it. Sleepless nights…Spirits, he sounded just like me…

Just like me…

"I had the shot, but…Tali…"

Garrus forced his words out with a long breath.

"…she reminded me - I - was still breathing."

Garrus was in his own place. He was reliving that moment. How far he had fallen. What he'd done. What he might have done. Tali's hand on his shoulder when he could have taken his shot. A punch to his armor brought him back.

"Never thought 'Fleet and Flotilla' could sap a hard-plated turian."

Garrus' brow plate rose from that comment. After a smile twitched from his mandibles, he returned the punch to Brandon a bit harder. Both marksmen stared down the glass littered cargo bay gripped by a sense of calm.

"I tell ya Garrus…the choices we make in this game."

"Life?"

"Yep."

Both made a quick glance at each other. Each with a smirk. Brandon drew with Garrus sighting up. The last two bottles exploded simultaneously.

"Looks like you still got it…for a human."

"Mhm. I call that a successful test."

Author's Note

Sorry this one took longer than usual. I was having too much fun writing a few later chapters. I wanted to thank those who have commented, followed, and favorited. Its good to know that people are curious to see this journey. Feel free to leave feedback whether its on the story itself or the writing. Always looking to improve.